Bloody Roses
by LittleTee
Summary: A quick peek into the still more than ordinary lives of Buffy and Spike. One-shot. AU. Spuffy. A belated gift fic for Claude Amelia Song.


**Bloody Roses **

Blood.

Spike stiffened, his paranormal senses alert as Buffy stepped onto the front walk. Blood had been spilled that night. Another scar, both psychological and physical, had been carved into her—his Buffy.

What was salient and a balm to his fear was that whoever had hurt her was now dust. The faint odor of ash told him as much. She was the One, the Slayer, and she was his.

Whoever said that fate has a twisted sense of humor was right. His and Buffy's unlikely romance testified as such: a vampire and a vampire slayer paired as lovers. It was quite a ridiculous notion, but he would not have it any other way.

He watched, in the shadows of the foyer as she entered their home. The bag of groceries she had insisted on picking up on her way home hung limply on her arm.

Buffy cocked her head. "Feeling melodramatic, Spike?"

She could always see him, sense him, even when he was cloaked in shadows, just as he could always find her.

"We need to have a little chat, love," Spike announced tenderly, striding towards her and shooing her hands away as he took her leather jacket. An old custom he knew but one he loved utilizing to annoy his wife. "I see you were busy on the way home."

"Work does have a way of following me at times," Buffy smirked and turned back to him. "Now, what's wrong?"

"Patience," Spike clicked his tongue while he swiftly twirled her around. His eyes rapidly surveying her—there, above her waist was a small blemish of maroon that stained the ivory cashmere blouse. He expertly suppressed his masculine urge to inflict equal poundage from the cursed ruffian who had dared hurt Buffy.

Some vampires didn't have the decorum not to hurt what wasn't theirs.

He transferred that need for avenge into more tender notions—ones that would also help his protective instincts—as he delicately lifted the ruined blouse and smoothed the skin around the jagged cut.

"It isn't that bad," her hand on Spike's arm jarred him back, "I've had worse you know."

Yes, he knew. He had even inflicted worse injuries on her back before—

Her kiss was a pleasant surprise and a much needed diversion. Even it was just a tease and not a proper one.

"You wanted to talk?"

Nodding he moved, groceries in hand, towards their kitchen.

"Alice has an obsession with those games of hers."

"She's 13. Being obsessed with a few mobile games is the norm."

Ever since they had adopted Alice, six years ago, they often talked about her behavior or what she should be doing. The most recent ones centered around her cell phone, a Christmas gift from Buffy, and her "unhealthy drive to focus on it."

"She wants an advance on her allowance, again."

This would be her third advance this month. Buffy frowned as she began putting away the frozen goods she had brought. It wasn't like Alice to be a spendthrift.

"It's for some anime vampire game."

Buffy blinked. She hadn't expected that development.

While they had not forbidden vampiric lore or fiction in their home, they hadn't indulged in it either, and before now Alice hadn't seemed all that interested in it.

"And it's for tickets to pursue a character who is the leader of a vampire elitist organization trying to eliminate humans."

Spike smirked. He had been equally surprised when Alice had asked him an hour ago, but he did love it when he could befuddle Buffy so that it almost made the whole absurd situation worth it. Almost.

"We need to talk to her, like now." She decided as she dropped the box of hot pockets onto the counter.

He stopped her. Pulling his wife into his arms. "Let her finish her homework first, or she won't ever complete it." Spike traced the curve of his wife's lips with his slender finger. Their eyes were firing a silent conversation between them. "I have her phone. We can talk to her after dinner."

"First thing after dinner," Buffy reluctantly agreed. "You put away the last of the groceries while I put the water on to boil."

"Yes, dear."

Buffy huffed and pushed her husband away. "Cheeky vampires I do not need."

His smirk grew. "You want me though. Admit it."

"Maybe," she grinned. Heaven help her, she did want him, always had, but she would be damned if she was going to admit it outright. "But I think I can control myself."

He hummed before slowly enveloping her into his arms. Her spirits immediately brightened as she leaned back into his reassuring warmth and strength as she placed her hands on top of his.

The message was clear: they had this. Together.

_Fini_


End file.
